Scotty
by lyl wind
Summary: A strange woman was discovered by leaf shinobi and taken into custody, but she takes matters into her own hands. Taking Konoha by storm, she handles the Naruto-verse the way she knows best. It begins pre-Naruto, then generally follows the normal plot. OC
1. Green Eyed Doll

Disclaimer: You know the drill. I don't own Naruto, but I did create the woman and any deviations from the main story line.

Note: I know that most people don't like OCs, so I'm unsure if people will even be reading this.

I'm not sure how this story will be received, and depending on the response I will decide how much time I'm going to spend on it. So please review and let me know what you think. If people aren't receptive, I'm not going to waste my or your time on a flop. This doesn't really make sense now but it will in later on. I have a plan, but I don't know how regularly I'll be able to update, I rather do quality over quantity.

Please review!

Chapter 1: Green Eyed Doll

The hum of industrial florescent lights sounded overhead. The dim glow illuminated a slouched, beaten form. The inside of the concrete cell was absolutely still, and at first glance the figure would appear to be dead, but in the absence of all other movement, the body seemed to shift ever so slightly.

In that desolate space, time appeared to be non-existent. Nothing changed. The only variation was when an arm twitched against its restraints, causing a pop to resound, before the body returned to its previous state of near motionlessness.

Time slowly dripped by and the lights hummed on.

The monotony was broken by the groan of the thick, blast proof steel door as it was thrown open. Heavy, imposing thuds were heard over the sound of the lights as they made their way toward the figure in the middle of the room, stopping at the opposite end of the table from where the body was attached. The newcomer paused for a short amount of time before slamming his fists on the unforgiving metal table.

A deep, scorning voice boomed, "Rise and shine scum."

The figure slowly raised its head, the dark pool of hair on the table twisting upwards towards the intruder in one agonizing mass. The knotted and tangled hair hung over the figure's face and concealed its features like a curtain of snakes, but the dull light from cold green eyes slithered through. "It took you long enough," the figure flatly stated, voice scratchy from lack of use. "A full 69 minutes and 22 seconds, but whose counting," the figure mocked.

A glint passed through the hard black eyes of the hulking man and he retracted his curled, vein-popping fists from the table, leaving softball sized dents behind. The dark man drew himself to full height towering over his captive, and his midnight black clothes complained against the strain of their load as he expanded his cavernous chest. He cut a brute figure. He intimidated the air with his mere presence.

The captive stared on unaffected.

The man's eyes narrowed as he boomed, "We can do this the easy way."There was a pause and the man flicked out an odd, triangle shaped knife, twirling it twice before settling in a ready position. "Or we can do this the hard way. I'm sure you know my preference." A lone finger darted out to stroke the dark weapon.

"Spare me the dramatics, I'll get right to the point," a quiet, commanding voice returned. "Kill me now."

The man displayed no outward sign of being thrown off balance by the disturbing, detached comment: he calmly threw back the taunt, "I intend to."

"No, no," the figure drawled, "I'm done playing the Game." The lank hair was flung back, to reveal the world-weary face of a woman under its dark tresses. "I'm tired."

"I'm afraid that I cannot accommodate you," he sneered. "Enemies are not afforded luxuries."

The woman arched a brow and stated, "Is that so. Now that's interesting, I've yet to come across a Japanese so indoctrinated in these beliefs."

There was a flash and then the strange weapon thudded into the concrete wall, buried halfway into a newly formed hole with a withered lock of hair wrapped around it. The woman flicked out her tongue to catch some of the blood exiting the fresh slash on her cheek.

"Really, is that necessary? I've been perfectly amiable this whole time." The voice changed from bored and teasing to ice cold, "I'm done playing the Game, kill me now."

The man drew out six overgrown silver needles between his fingers. "I'm done playing too."

The man issued the standard questions" Why were you trespassing? What's your purpose? Who are you working for? Who are you working with? Who are you?" The stoic woman spoke not a word, nor made a sound even as the endless stream of the long needles poured into her motionless body.

After an imperceptible amount of time the questions and needles came to a halt. A rough hand painfully buried itself into the hair on the top of the woman's scalp wrenching it back and voiced, "Still no answer?" The only sound to be heard was the hum of the lights. "Well then, it appears we'll have to up the ante."

The man carelessly wrenched his hand away and retracted it with more than a few strands of hair still attached. Without bothering to dispose of the wispy strands that clung to his hand, he reached inside of his black leather coat and pulled out a worn, black case. Smoothly, he placed the case on the table and opened it up to reveal a collection of shiny silver knives, scalpels, and picks of varying sizes and sharpness in pristine condition inside.

All the while the man observed the doll-like woman in front of him, watching for a tell tale sign of fear at the sight. The woman did not move. She stared straight ahead, unaffected even as he selected one of the small sharp picks from amongst its brethren.

"What is your name?"

Silence.

The man positioned the pick at the tip of her thumb, pressing it into the sensitive skin just enough so that it pricked the skin and released a drop of blood.

"What is this Japanese?"

Silence prevailed, but this time the woman's eyes widened a fraction at the question. It was hardly perceptible, but this was just what the man was waiting for.

He thrust the pick forward and up in a practiced move uprooting the nail and brutalizing the raw skin underneath while repeating his question. "What is this Japanese?"

The woman let out a repressed gasp, and reflexively jerked her injured hand back only for the motion to be stopped before it began, not only by the chain binding her wrist but the man's iron grip. The woman's even breathing turned to slight panting. A thin grin crept upon the man's hardened face for finally making progress. Still gripping the woman's targeted hand he used his other hand to peruse his case in order to select the tool that he would use next. His gaze diverted from the woman in front of him as he considered his next move.

There was a sickening pop. The man's gaze flickered back to the woman before him, but instead of finding her with two hands chained to the table, he registered that one was now free of its restraints and was hurtling towards him with the second and third finger extended and glowing at the tips. He attempted to move back out of her range, but the woman held him in place with a viper-like grip around the hand that was previously crushing hers.

The glowing fingers slammed into the top right of his chest near his shoulder. Blood exited from the wound thick and fast and his right arm now hung useless at his side.

Leaning forward he brought up his right leg. Making contact with her side, he was met with the sound of ribs cracking and the sharp pressure of something against the back of his neck. Briefly, he realized his mistake when he registered the pressure as a chop to the back of his neck before slumping forward in unconsciousness.

The woman backhanded the man's weight off her, cringing inwardly at the strain the action placed on her newly broken ribs. Making the same hand formation that she had before against the man; she reactivated the glow.

The woman aimed the focused light at the lock that held the other hand, the light slicing through the unforgiving metal until it fell away. She expertly flicked open the iron manacle, releasing her wrist from its unrelenting grasp.

Harshly rubbing her wrist, her gazed lingered to her brutalized thumb, the frenzied rubbing increased, before she jerked herself away from her reverie, eyes falling upon the slumped figure before her. Lithely, she glided over to the body, skillfully stripping it from its weathered jacket. Slipping it on, she searched the pockets, pulling out a set of clunking keys. She then patted down the rest of the man, pocketing the various pointed weapons that had been concealed, and pulled out a wallet containing a form of identification.

The man before her glared up at her in a sea of lines and characters, tsking she slipped the ID into a small hidden pocket on the inside of her pants, and stashed the currency in another pocket, before discarding the beaten wallet. The woman made a move to rise, before swooping forward to grab the black bandana with an odd decoration adorning the man's head. She secured it to her own head, sheathing her hair as she stood; a flash of silver was produced from it as the harsh lights shined down.

Silently sliding to the side of the door she simply opened it, and kept cover behind steel door. No movement was made, the only sound came from the incessant buzz of the lights. After a tense moment, the girl stepped away from her cover, and exited the room. A resounding thud sounded behind her and the clink of keys in the lock.

The inside of the cell was absolutely still, except for the slight even movements of the figures chest, and all that could be heard was a monotonous hum.


	2. Negotiations

Disclaimer: You know the drill. I don't own Naruto, but I did create the woman and any deviations from the main story line.

Note: Please let me know your opinions on this approach and my writing style. Please review!

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Previously:

_ Silently sliding to the side of the door she simply opened it, and kept cover behind steel door. No movement was made, the only sound came from the incessant buzz of the lights. After a tense moment, the girl stepped away from her cover, and exited the room. A resounding thud sounded behind her and the clink of keys in the lock._

_ The inside of the cell was absolutely still, except for the slight even movements of the figure's chest, and all that could be heard was a monotonous hum._

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Chapter 2: Negotiations

Slinking down the narrow hall, a brunette hugged the wall. She stood out, a black form against a continuous grey wall; the harsh lights overhead yielded no lingering shadows for her to meld into. A steady drip of dark maroon exited from under the dark trench coat, staining the monotonous world with the incriminating color of her presence. It could not be helped, wounds flow. A hand was held down at the ready, the object it held concealed by the long trench coat to prevent it from shining in the light.

The wall began to curve, bending inwards. Sliding around it, she paused at the apex and cautiously peered beyond to the other side. Immediately her green eyes assessed the threat of the area, a guard was in sight lazily leaning against the wall. However, she was more interested in the door that was next to the man at the end of the hallway wearing a metal plate with the same signal as the other man in black. The woman pressed up against the protection of the opposite side of the curve once more. She weighed the weapon in her hand, making calculations of how the unfamiliar projection would travel. She twirled it into the fire position briefly before returning it to its previous position. There were too many unknown variables.

She prepared herself to charge the guard; she could not afford to miss.

The guard straightened as he caught a flash of silver in the corner of his eyes. He took a step forward. A loud explosion sounded from above. The guard pivoted towards the door throwing it open, confirming the escapee's previous assumption as stairs came into view, that door was her way out. She stepped away from the wall and silently sprinted down the middle of the hallway, sliding through a narrow gap between the door and the wall just as it was about to close.

The guard was halfway up the flight of the stairs. The woman dove for the alcove under the stairs, to protect her from his view as he turned on the landing to face the second half of the flight. Holding her breath she waited a few seconds before bounding up the steps herself, alert when she reached the top of the first flight. The guard was not in view, nor could she hear him continuing on the stairs, so he must have used the exit at the first floor. Regardless, that was her way out, cautiously she opened the door, but the other side was clear, the guard, nor anyone else for that matter was not in sight. It was as if the guard disappeared in a flash. She filed that bit of information away to be analyzed later.

She strode down the enclosed hallway to another locked metal door. Reactivating the glow on her fingers, the lock was melted away, and she kicked the door open into a person as another explosion sounded in the distance. The person crushed by the door rolled to his feet and leapt to attack the disturber, however, before he finished his leap, he was caught in the abdomen with the triangle knife. He slumped down immobilized as he watched the prisoner climb out of the nearest window in the room, disappearing as quickly as she appeared.

Assessing her new outdoor surroundings, a gigantic wall, with an even larger gate dominated her vision. She made her way over to the forty foot wall, and pulled out two triangle knives, muttering, "Is this really necessary, it's not like we're in the age of siege warfare." Using the knives to help her find purchase she lithely scaled up the wall. On the parapet, she quickly stored the weapons, and jumped to a nearby tree branch for cover, and climbed the giant tree down to the ground. On the ground she once again hugged the wall, and followed it around the circumference making her way towards the oversized gate.

It had been about twenty minutes since the first explosion, and it would take another ten to reach the gate. If the disturbance was what she thought it was it was just being brought under control now, she needed to move. He was a pest. One should be weary of him for he was lethal, but he would be nothing more than a nuisance alone inside a foreign enemy stronghold. He would be dealt with quickly, and she would lose her small timeframe.

She forced herself onwards, hissing as the increased pace, upset her injuries further. A hand clutched to her side, she limped on. The time frame of her body was almost up for her as well, the adrenaline was fading, making her all more aware of the pain. She moved onwards.

Finally, the gate was insight; she moved to cover and slipped her way to the bushes closest to the gate. She brought her hand to her head, checking to make sure that the man's bandana containing what appeared to be their identification plate was still in place. She made one final push, flinging herself out of cover and into the open, to land in an undignified heap.

The guards' attention was quickly drawn to the intruder, and they jumped down from the wall in a flash. The woman blinked in surprise at their speed and agility, but hid any other trace from showing on her face. These people had an ability that she had never seen or heard of before, she must proceed with even more caution.

"Oi, what's this," sounded above her.

"It's a Konoha shinobi, but she's in too bad of shape to recognize her," the other replied.

She was rolled over by a foot, "What happened?" the first one asked urgently.

"I have information to report, now," she hissed.

"Let us know, and Izumo will report it after he drops you off at the hospital." A name, they were careless, they hadn't even identified her yet.

"It's classified," she levelly said.

"Still…" Questioning apparent sources of important information, if it was for how genuine it was it would be one thing, but this was more insolent. She added lack of discipline to her list.

"Has there been an attack yet?" she sharply asked cutting them off.

The two guards just looked at eachother. She let out a frustrated hiss, "Then it is all the more dire that I report."

A guard stooped down and picked her up, carefully cradling her in his arms. "Alright, let's get you to the Hokage then, but you seriously need to see a medic-nin." She leaned her head into his chest, surprised at the whirl of speed and power as he jumped up the wall, and back down onto a roof on the other side, moving in a flash. She really needed to be weary of these soldiers, carelessness or not, they had raw power.

They approached a tall tower, and bounded into it through a window, landing into an office with an old man situated behind the desk, another man with white hair standing lazily in front of him. The old man looked up at them when they entered, neither of them the least surprised that they came in unannounced through the window.

"She was discovered at the gates and claims to have information to report regarding the recent attack," the man clutching the injured woman stated.

"Thank you, Izumo, you are dismissed," the old man commanded.

"Hai, Hokage-sama," he responded, carefully setting the injured woman down, before once again jumping out the window in a blur.

The woman once released, strode to stand five feet in front of the desk. Eyeing the white haired man wearily, she assessed that he was an unavoidable threat, and that she should continue regardless.

"You're not a Konoha shinobi," the Hokage blandly stated, with no more anxiety then as if he had commented on the weather. However, the white-haired man stiffened at these words, but made no move.

"No I'm not," she calmly replied, unfazed. The Hokage raised an eyebrow at her, prompting her to continue, "I'm here to make a deal."

"Now why would I want to do that?" the Hokage drawled.

"You were attacked about forty-five minutes ago were you not?" she retorted. The Hokage's eyes widened at the mention of Konoha's most recent disturbance. "I present the opportunity of an exchange - information for information." Two stares born down upon her, from three distinct eyes, she returned them as each party gage the other.

The weary woman decided to offer bait, "The man that attacked was wearing a sand colored full length, robe-like clothes, with a brown vest over it, along with a brown head wrap that covered his head and face." The eyes narrowed at this description, the woman undeterred decided to continue on to the hook. "He carried odd, foreign weapons that included metal canisters that created explosions, and an object that spat metal."

At that point the woman was tackled to the ground by the white-haired man; she made no move to resist as he patted her down, removing all the weapons she had stored in the black trench coat. She only winced when the man carelessly pressed down on her cracked ribs. The Hokage looked on, unperturbed by the order of the events and evaluated, "They were not unlike your own were they." The white hair man recovered the stolen ID and flicked it onto the Hokage's desk, without realeasing or taking his eyes off of the captive.

"He messed up," the white-haired man calmly stated from his position of trapping the woman. No names, that's better.

"No they are not that different at all," she said, noting that the man could clearly not tell the difference between models. "But you won't be able to get any information out of him using your ways. Nor any out of me for that matter, you've already failed in that regard."

"So we have," he replied. "Why are you interested in doing this?"

"Now motives are always the best piece of information now aren't they?"

The white-haired man roughly jolted the woman, aggravating her injuries, before proceeding to say, "Hokage-sama, she is not to be trusted. We should take her into custody and proceed with interrogation under higher security." He was an advisor then, not just a guard. The woman just smirked at those words, she would not crack.

"I assure you, he's no friend of mine. I would personally like to pay back that son-of-a-bitch back, next time I see him. Trust me, the only way to get information out of that piece of work is to trick him into revealing it, and the only one who has the knowledge to do that here is me," she drawled.

"That still leaves us to the question of why you would do this," the Hokage stated.

The woman raised her eyebrow replying, "Since there isn't that much in it for me to reveal such a juicy piece, you might as well let me up. This isn't the most comfortable position in this state, and I won't be able to do much anyway."

The Hokage nodded and the white man released her, but stayed close. Disciplined, that's good. She slowly stood up, adjusting the trench coat, she opened her mouth to speak, but just then another person intruded into the room through the open window. He too was carrying a body. Another appeared carrying a pack and a third weapons."

"Hokage-sama! A foreigner body was recovered four kilometers north. The body was unidentified, however, he was carrying weapons and supplies similar to the one found on the woman earlier today." He set the body down. The woman froze at the sight. She rushed over to it; a cry of horror tore through her lips as she was held back by a multitude of hands. Struggling, she fought against the hands with total disregard of her injuries, or her actions, until she was once more tackled to the floor by the white-haired man.

Panting, the woman shuddered, "You asked for my reason. I've nothing left to lose. I'm alone in a foreign country alone, with no way back. I've no qualms with dying, but I'm not particularly fond of that option. My only other choice is to join a group. What I'm looking to do right now is to join you, not to attack you, but so I can survive. I'm fully aware of my position." The woman stared at the Hokage with tired, weary eyes.

"Choza-san," the Hokage called, breaking the tension.

"Hai, Hokage-sama!"

"Please inform the head medic-nin to report to my office right away. I trust you to be discrete."

"Hai, Hokage-sama!" Choza-san called before flashing away.

"Shizuno-san, your thoughts on the matter?" the Hokage asked.

A lazy man with black hair replied, "That was a correct assessment of her situation, and her thought pattern was logical, but we should still verify her intentions." The Hokage nodded in agreement. Shizuno-san then proceeded to form a series of hand signals and his shadow began to move, stretching towards her. The woman's eyes grew wide and she tried to shrink away, only to be held firmly in place by the white haired man. The shadow attached to her and she felt restricted, as if there was a substance coating her body that caused her to lose all control. Her mouth dropped open in a small gasp as she attempted to move and found that she couldn't. At that point the blond approached her; standing over her he too made a series of hand movements, though different from the one before.

The surprise had disappeared from the woman's green-eyes and she looked disinterestedly upwards, as she felt a presence against the edge of her mind. Several moments passed in silence in the room, before the blond finally moved, sweats rolling down his forehead as if he just completed a task of great exertion.

"Is that enough for you?" the woman disinterestedly question with a removed tone.

Panting the blonde replied, "Hai, I believe that will suffice." Turning to the Hokage he stated with a pale face, "She bears no ill will towards Konoha, and is genuine in her proposal. She's not a shinobi, but is still dangerous. However, there are intentions of becoming incorporated into Konoha."

"Now why is that?" the Hokage questioned the woman once again.

"I already told you," she tiredly replied, "I've nothing else." The blonde nodded in confirmation.

"What is your name?"

The woman remained silent. After a few moments the blonde stated, "I found no names."

The Hokage stared down at the woman on the floor. There was a sigh, as the black- haired man broke from his statuary position. The woman felt the restraint controlling her disappear, as she proceeded to flip the non-expecting white-haired man that had still been holding her pinned down to the ground. After switching their positions, she sat down on his chest, and cheekily replied with a small smirk, "You can just call me Scotty."


End file.
